Sing Once More
by RanOutOfBatteries
Summary: Time-travel AU. Where Azula finds herself in a child's body once again and knows that she would protect Zuko this time, so that he'd never have to wear that scar ever again.
1. Ash

Chapter 1

Azula was a capable woman.

Her father had expected nothing less of her than to push herself to her limits and exceed them. As the princess of the Fire Nation and as the Fire Lord's daughter, she had high expectations, and it was her duty to be of her people's approval. And thus, she didn't mind having to burn a few accomplices to get her way.

As a child, she was power-driven and had relentlessly drilled herself into perfection, for that was what she was expected to be. She learned to manipulate and control her subordinates with a flick of her wrist, and she dug her way into politics and studied tactics from the age of five. She was born a prodigy, added that she was special to be guided under the hand of her just-as-capable father.

However, as soon as she took a look at her older brother, she scoffed at his blatant inability to go through the steps properly, and when Ozai's first inspection of their technique she had a grand time beating her brother to the ground. She laughed at the blatant disappointment her father had on his face as Zuko tripped backwards and landed on his back, bruising both elbows and leaving the room with a sore bottom and broken pride.

"She was born lucky," he said as the two of them bowed, side-by-side as they parted with their father. "You were lucky to be born."

"Remarkably intelligent and a tactical genius," she heard one of her many instructors say (she didn't like this one; he was too lenient and he had no spine.) She was supplied an army at the age of eight. The true heir to the throne, and she demanded nothing less.

She was a fool.

She remembered that day, when Zuko had pulled her from her selfish, narcissistic mindset when she had stabbed her arm straight through his chest.

 _"You didn't dodge," Azula stiffened, his eyes boring into hers in the way only he could. All she could see were her mother's eyes through those dark irises._

 __" _I didn't," he agreed after a certain pause, his lips curling upwards as he smiled. It was bitter, and yet, so triumphant._

" _Why?" He was losing strength in his legs and keeled over, blood seeping past his mouth as he choked, remnants of electricity jerking his body at certain intervals._

 _The last, kindhearted face he had on haunted her nightmares._

With new eyes and a level head, she realized just what her ruthless reign had done. The respect she craved was not really respect: it was fear. Even her friends, the people she's grown up with from childhood and the ones she sympathized with, had grown ill from her misdeeds.

In the end, she was alone. She realized too late she had never moved from square one. No wonder her mother had favored Zuko, anyone in their right mind would.

And he had sacrificed his future to change hers.

And there she was, watching in horror as her kingdom fell into ruin. Revolts, public executions, and the horribly misplaced hatred against non-benders who the corrupt council believed were 'single-minded assets that were useful for no one.' Her army, not quite fully under her control, fed on the blood of both friend and foe.

She sat in her chamber room, a servant pulling her hair into a sweeping up-do that would fit the coronation ceremony easily. She had grown fond of this woman; when she had returned, the one she had treated the most horribly was the only loyal one left under her care.

She had no idea why this servant had stayed for so long when she remembered a time where she would throw vases at the maids and laugh, but she was grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you," Azula murmured with gratitude as the old woman finished dressing her. The lady bowed in return, mischievous eyes glittering with mirth as Azula stood up. Her reflection was what she had grown up to be; sharp, stunning, but with a gaze sadder than one she'd ever thought she could make. She glanced away quickly; when she saw her own face, all she could see was her mother's beauty but her father's eyes, sharp and condescending.

"I'm a little frightened to face my father right now, actually. I've just returned from my mission, though I know I've failed it horribly."

Her voice cracked at the end; she stood straighter and her eyes drifted to the woman at the edge of the mirror. Her maid said nothing of it, and for all the burden that had been brushed onto the shoulders of others Azula felt the full brunt of a dull, throbbing guilt.

She bowed her head low as she swept down the hallway, the servants flanking her each placing a steady hand on one side of the velvet curtains. She heard the cheering from the other side, feeling her hands grow cold and clammy.

"Are you ready, princess?" They chorused in monotone. She gave a sharp nod, and light burst in from the parted entryway as she walked up to face the adoring faces. _This was a terrible mistake_ _, all of it, she wanted to run it was her fault she had failed Zuko was-_

She bent down on one knee. Her eyes glazed over faces that she didn't recognize, strangers she called her people, and she wondered whether or not she should simply close her eyes.

"All hail Fire Lord Azula," the unified voices sang, and she felt the sharp prick of cool metal as it grazed the back of her head.

Her lids finally fell closed, and Azula felt bile rise up from the back of her throat as Zuko's face burned in the last remnants of darkness. _The Fire Lord was meant for the older sibling unless they were deemed unfit to rule, she had killed him to get here he had been more capable of leadership than she would ever be-_

 _I regret everything._

And then there was a blinding, white light and her vision blurred into nothing but ash.

* * *

 _"...eaves from the vine_ ," the lulling voice buzzed at her ears, and she blinked to wake herself up. Azula felt absolutely nothing for a moment, living in nothing but a calm blackness enveloping her whole, but then a sharp migraine hit her and she nearly passed out again.

She lifted a hand to her forehead, feeling a wave of nausea. What in the world happened? And why was she sitting in a bush?

Right. She had blacked out _during the middle of her coronation oh lord what the hell happened-_

 _"-falling so slow,_  
 _like fragile, tiny shells,_  
 _drifting in the foam._ " She recognized that voice. She picked herself up from the bush, leafy twigs stuck on her person. Faintly, she recalled her uncle singing that melody and she picked up where he had left off.

" _Little soldier boy,"_ she continued softly, and she heard a loud scuffling as the footsteps stopped abruptly.  
" _come marching home,_  
 _and brave soldier boy,_  
 _comes marching home."_

She cursed as her foggy mindset vanished, her fingers instinctively curling into two-fingered position and launched herself into the canopy with sparks of blue flame just as a head she recognized immediately poked out from underneath her, blinking confusedly at the trees below. She was stupid, what if the man had seen her she was supposed to still be at-

Her breath caught; it was Iroh.

Why was Iroh here? He had been banished from the Fire Nation. But as she gazed at his armor, she realized that it was a general's armor he was donning. When she glanced around, she further found she was not in the Fire Nation, either; trees didn't grow this tall and in such abundant numbers.

She hid herself behind a trunk as his eyes shot up, following a bird's movement as it flew away. He relaxed visibly and turned away to continue walking down the well worn out path, humming the song as he turned his head one last time to glare suspiciously in her direction.

She was a dark red against the deep, rich green of the leaves, and even as she relaxed from her position flush to the tree trunk she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb. She jumped down with the grace of a feline, landing neatly on two feet and paying attention to the sound of water nearby.

She stumbled over to the flowing stream, dipping a hand into the clear waters, and for the first time she took a long moment to stare at the blurry image disrupted by the ripples her fingertips made.

"Why do I look like a five year old?"

After about ten minutes of staring blankly into the water, the feeling of throwing up had ebbed as she took a minute to acclimate accordingly. She felt a sense of displacement for about the fifteenth time in the past minute. The trees that she had thought were taller than normal were most likely just average height; she was the one who had shrunk. She waved her fingers, noticing how clumsy the action looked. She still had a child's body, after all.

She began to stretch, feeling blood pump through her tinier body and wondered why the hell she hadn't noticed the difference. She guessed it was because she had still been half-awake. After all, she had nearly been discovered while in this strange form. She was flexible, she thought as she bent backwards and placed her palms on the soft, delicate grass, but she felt unbalanced, unsure where to properly place her weight.

"I'm a child," Azula almost laughed, flexing her wrists and hopping from one foot to the other. "What the hell."

 _Either I've finally gone mental or I'm still dreaming_ , she tried to tell herself. But she reached a hand up and pinched herself hard, refusing to even flinch as pain lanced up her arm. _If I'm not hallucinating, then I've actually traveled back in time. That means-_

 _Zuko isn't dead._

She didn't know what time she was in. She was only guessing that she was around five in the first place. She almost flew out of the forest in a blaze of blue fire, starting as she found her energy depleting rapidly and her flames turning orange. _Right, I'm a child again._ She stopped a minute later and followed the direction Iroh had went towards, anticipation fueling her every step as she dug her nails into the flesh of her palm. _I really hope I'm not going mental, because this would be the most cruel and horrible joke my mind's played on me yet._

She soon saw her uncle's silhouette, praying he hadn't heard her slight cursing as she continued trying to get used to her new, shorter legs. Her strides were too long for her and she had to force herself to take a brisk pattering of baby steps, trying to find the proper step. She stayed far behind him and hid herself in the forest treeline, her gaze traveling past him as her breath quickened.

The edge of the capital was in her sights, and farther than that was her home. The palace. Her hopes soared as he was accepted by the guards and dispelled the rest of her half-formed doubts; he hadn't been banished yet! As she remembered faintly the secret passageways she had forced the servants to teach her when she was younger (she really was a spoiled little brat, she thought distastefully), she parted sadly from trailing Uncle Iroh and focused on finding the garden. He had always went there to spend time with-

Their mother. Azula almost stopped completely in her tracks, her mind churning unpleasantly as she remembered the woman's disappearance. She hadn't really thought of planning for the events ahead, she had focused simply on seeing Zuko's face again. _His unmarred face._ She still wasn't sure if she was actually five; but if she was correct, it would be in four years that Ursa would disappear and when Zuko would brandish that burn over his left eye like a disease.

This time, she thought with a fury that all firebenders have felt once in their life, she would make things right.

* * *

I've wanted to get this chapter off my chest for a while now; it's been floating around in the back of my mind for a long time and I'm not sure if I can juggle two different stories and still be able to post regularly, but damn it I'm gonna try. Time-travel AU.

I'll update this when I can. Second story I've started so far.


	2. Burning

Chapter 2

I did promise to update as soon as possible, but I had also made a promise to myself to prioritize the completion of my first story before anything else. Unfortunately, school has made updating a pain. I also wasn't expecting many reviews; thank you, I am so grateful for the feedback/advice.

When Azula was younger she was fueled by two things: fear and spite.

Azula had been built to become Ozai's right hand. When she finally gained enough awareness to obey orders and she began her training, she was already the beginning of that cold, effortless soldier Ozai would mold her into. Therefore, when she saw her brother, the sibling that Ozai gave no respect to, she did the same. And she knew in the bottom of her heart that she didn't enjoy it, because every part of her life was to be planned out for her and one step out of line would make her just as much of a disappointment.

And so she laughed. Laughed at his pain, his struggles, and the spars she won. Pretended she was merely crushing a bug under her heel. It was an act; at least, it had been until she saw who Zuko ran to every time she bullied him.

Her mother gave them both equal attention, but it's always been different when those eyes fell on her: it wasn't fear, or disgust, but it was a careful wariness as if she were facing a wild animal. And that hurt just as much, because the eyes she gave the other, weaker sibling was one of pride.

Azula didn't understand. Why would she be prideful of Zuko? A pushover and a failure? He would never become anything more than her, because she was given a role to fulfill while he had been given nothing. Her title far surpassed his no matter what.

But she did understand. She understood each time Ursa pulled Zuko into a hug, whispered words of praise to soothe his pains, smiled at him every time he did something ordinary but she treated as if it was the highest accomplishment. Ursa was proud of the son who understood human weakness better than anyone else, who could empathize and turn kindness into a strength. And that made her spite him because she would never find that same look in her mother's eyes. Never towards her.

And suddenly that made her acting so much easier.

Azula paused when she passed by the garden. She knew he was there before she even saw him, and she walked silently behind a pillar to avoid being spotted.

Zuko crouched at the pond, under the gently curving tree close to the water's edge. He was meticulously pulling bread apart with a stupidly scrunched up look on his face as if he were concentrating. When he finished throwing the bread in, he smiled triumphantly and looked to the person next to him. Her breath caught as her eyes trailed his.

Ursa was alive. Zuko was alive and happy and suddenly, so was Azula. Her heart twisted with regret and her legs coiled with the urge to run towards them. She felt a pang of nostalgia wash over her as the crumbs the turtle-ducklings ate up brought a giddy smile to Zuko's face. He angled himself, the sunlight catching his eyes, and the burn mark she always unconsciously sought out when meeting Zuko's gaze wasn't there. For a moment, she saw a stranger, and the smile she hadn't even known she had on faltered.

Then Zuko's gaze caught hers. Azula immediately schooled her expression into one of a sly confidence and Zuko fell into his own faultless, recognizable scowl.

"Azula," Her mother called with a slight resignation.

When she had actually been a child the first time around, her mother had been unconditionally kind. Azula had been a conniving little demon who'd pulled her brother into all her antics, and Ursa had let her do so every time. They both knew that Ursa was much wiser than she appeared, but Azula had brushed it aside.

It hadn't ended well for Ursa, anyway.

"So glad to see you care, Zuzu," Azula drawled. Zuko's scowl grew worse at the nickname. "Hello, mother," she added, giving her a polite bow of the head. Zuko glared at her warily. "Feeding the turtle-ducks. How...cute." She made sure to smile fakely. "I'm assuming neither of you has seen Ty Lee and Mai around?"

"I think they left for their lessons," Ursa replied with a much more honest kindness. "You're welcome to join us."

Zuko made a face behind his mother's back, probably expecting Azula not to see it, either.

"A pity, but I should be going to my own lessons, too. Care to watch, Zuko?" He stuck his tongue out at her and she gasped exaggeratedly. "So rude! No matter, I'll see you both later." She waved her fingers. "Goodbye, mother!"

She heard Ursa scolding him lightly as she departed and moved towards the direction of the royal practice grounds where her instructor was likely waiting. Fuzzy memories were returning to her; she had lessons with multiple instructors over time, each one she had deemed incompetent before ordering them to leave. Azula was a conceited child, but her father had never found fault in her actions. In fact, he praised her. One of the reasons she has grown to resent him; she had struggled to realize a moral code and found a harsh helping of humility to aid her once she had grown.

Even with all the power in the world, Azula had found nothing but emptiness and a slow realization that Ozai had ruined her from the beginning. Her purpose was to be his right-hand and his heir and she had fulfilled it perfectly. He had insinuated nothing but a high title and respect as her rewards, both which she didn't actually crave. Fear and spite really were the perfect tools, weren't they?

She was late to her sparring lesson, but it happened often. She didn't remember this instructor's face. She never did. He would probably be gone in a week or two.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," she said sweetly to the man gazing at her in expectation. They both knew she didn't mean it: Azula remembered that they were all afraid of her and her manipulative personality. Just like the maids. "Shall we begin?"

She fired flames one by one, hot missiles that he dodged in a sluggish manner. It wasn't like she was faster than any of her instructors, she thought, advancing forward. The issue was that they would realize the tightrope they walked on. If she were injured in any way, they would face her wrath (most likely the death of their families and then their own). If they let her hit them, it would be just as damaging physically. If they blocked her every move, she would begin a temper and turn to Ozai for a better teacher.

Nobody wanted the last option.

Azula landed a particularly brutal spike of fire and watched as he allowed it to singe his hair. She felt no victory from it now: it was just a particular form of bullying to prove herself. She dropped her hands and her instructor paused.

It was when Zuko had died that Azula realized that although he was given no recognition nor a title, he had a drive. It was his _lack_ of having a title that drove him. He had a blank slate, and he did not have pressure forced upon his shoulders, so that gave him even more of an urge to prove himself that he could be just as great as Azula. His mistakes were his own, and that was what had touched her the most because she could not afford to do the same.

At the same time she had also realized that Ozai had taken the greatest gift she had ever been given, her freedom - for no matter how far a person can go there is still a limit unless they break it themselves - and pinched it in to such a tiny little pebble in the back of her mind that Azula had not realized that she had the choice to break free from her role. And so it was fate that led her to murder her brother in cold blood.

But this time, she had a choice. This time, she would not mess it up. And her fire flickered, turning into such a violent blue that her instructor seemed taken aback. She lunged forward and struck him down during his shock with a kick directly into his stomach, knocking him onto his back. Her fingers formed a knife at his throat.

"My win," she smiled, although her grin was entirely sinister. "I suppose you don't hold back next time." He paled, congratulated her and hurriedly fled the grounds.

She stood there for a while afterward, staring down at the singed floor in front of her. She traced the circle with a heel. She had to memorize the date, she realized, cogs turning in her head. She had to know when and where certain events happened. She had to _remember._

With that, she headed to her room. Her friends would arrive tomorrow.

* * *

At first glance, Ty Lee looked so much happier than the one Azula had left behind. She bit the side of her mouth to dispel the thought, but all she could see in front of her was a gaze full of pity overlapping the girl running towards her.

"Azula, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ty Lee said nervously before glancing over her own shoulder.  
"It's nothing, Ty Lee. There's no such thing as ghosts," Azula scoffed. Her bright, sunny smile almost choked her. Stay composed, she told herself. "I just didn't get to say goodbye yesterday."

Ty Lee giggled. "Did you really miss me that much?"

One thing Azula had remembered fondly (and without regret) was how she talked with Ty Lee during their childhood. They had been normal children, ones without much issue relationship wise. Mai was a slightly different case, as Azula used her budding crush on Zuko against both of them. No wonder they had separated as they grew older. Azula had only become more toxic with age.

But at this age, they were all naive and somewhat innocent and Azula's comments were only teasing. She would keep it that way.

"Of course not! I know you come back every time, but I need to make sure you're alright before you go," Azula huffed back.  
"Whatever you say," Ty Lee singsonged before doing a series of cartwheels past the fountain. "I know the truth. Actually, we left early yesterday because we couldn't find you," she added with a slight frown. "Where'd you go?"  
"I needed to take care of something," Azula said vaguely before doing a handstand of her own, and the girl didn't press any further.

"Well, if it was something fun, don't exclude us next time," Mai spoke as she drifted out from the edge of the steps leading to the garden. Azula waved a hand in greeting and righted herself before she lost her balance.  
"You're late, as usual," Azula sighed.  
"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, your highness," Mai replied, doing a mock bow. Azula rose her head, stuck her chin up, and took a disdainful sniff. Ty Lee snorted and all three burst out into laughter when they couldn't handle a serious mien anymore.

This was alright, Azula thought as she smiled fondly at the two. They would be alright. She would come to trust them more than ever, because what she knew now was that her friends were much stronger than her previous self had given credit. They had gone far, even at Azula's worst.

She would take this second chance with everything she had.

* * *

I'm really surprised this was so well-received. Thank you for your kind reviews. Sorry I didn't update sooner, I needed to wiggle in a chapter for my other story before this one.


	3. Lotus

Chapter 3

Azula wrote.

There was a multitude of languages she had learned throughout her travels across the Earth Kingdom and numerous water tribes scattered across the United Republic, and she made sure that whenever she completed a page of writing she burned it right after. She could not make mistakes.

Based off of Zuko's travels, he had found the Avatar around the range of the near-extinct Southern Water Tribe. She tapped her pen against the wooden desk thoughtfully, tracing what she assumed would be the fastest route of travel. The ice has been breaking up recently in certain areas during her time, whether from the extreme amount of firebenders overtaking the area or one of the tribes' attempts at blockading the more commonly used paths around the icebergs. She had no clue on whether the Avatar would be there if she arrived too early.

That would be priority number 823, she concluded, scrapping the parchment into a pile of ash. She was under heavy schedule, as usual, and due to her recent case of blue fire, both Azulon and Ozai had found it best to make her lessons more grueling. She cracked her neck as she changed into more suitable clothing for a training bout. Her friends would arrive later in the day.

She'd gone through multiple katas in her father's presence early in the morning. He had been especially approving when she gave an example of her firebending and her flames burned a sharp, distinct blue. In hindsight, she wished she hadn't done so: the timing was too fast and it had been revealed too early. Nevertheless, when Ozai praised her openly with such emotion, Azula felt something respond to his words with pride.

She ruthlessly squashed that emotion. She had no need for his praise anymore, she berated herself, but it was very hard to become calm again and stay indifferent. Her heart was set, but her mind had been so ingrained with the urge to please, to respect, to obey, that she could take one look at his face and crumble. It was frustrating to know that she feared his indifference so much that she had to push herself to the limits. However, she was easily distracted when she was told that she would be sparring with someone.

"Who am I fighting today?" She asked Ozai without hesitation. Even when she was younger, there was one thing she adored above all else, and that was war. This was something that she could show on her face without the need to hide it: all wide grin and wild eyes, she bounced eagerly on her feet as she awaited his reply. Her hands itched and they both knew it.

"My brother has volunteered to fight you today," Ozai replied blandly, and Azula continued walking with a smile on her face. "I told him that he was not worth your time, but he insisted. I suppose the humiliation would do him good."

"Absolutely," she agreed, face stuck. Ozai left the room and removed herself from his vision, and as soon as he did so her pleasant expression faded, replaced by grim fear.

How was she supposed to fight him if she couldn't even look at him? She steeled herself, counting in her head the number of times she had sparred him and remained even, but she could not forget the look on his face when he had seen her kill her brother in front of his very eyes. She had not bothered to stay very long to see the remains of her broken uncle, and now she was glad she hadn't. She wasn't sure if she could stomach his sorrow anymore, and to her dismay her eyes began to prickle. She held a hand to her temples and slowed her breathing, and when she composed herself she started to walk back to her room. One more trip before she could see Iroh, and with it she hoped he would listen to her words.

She needed a partner, after all.

After contemplating for a period of time, she withdrew a lotus tile from underneath a pile of inconspicuous books along her shelf. It was old and cracked down the middle, but it had been the one thing she'd thought was important and that somehow came along with her when she'd been brought back in time.

It was a bit funny, actually, she thought as she hid it within the folds of her clothing. It was out of guilt that she'd kept the thing in the first place, and now that she had it she would be returning it to the man who she had taken it from. Not that he would know it, of course.

Iroh's back was turned when she entered the training arena not a moment too late, and before she could say anything he moved to greet her happily. "How is my favorite niece doing?"  
"I'm your only niece," she said, slapping her forehead. She'd forgotten how happy-go-lucky this man was when she'd been chasing the Avatar, and at a younger age he still thought her to be cute. His affection was terrifying. She cut straight to the point. "Why did you want to spar with me?"

Uncle Iroh paused thoughtfully as he brought a hand to his chin. Azula felt her spine stand straight and she stared him down intensely, thoughts racing in her head. Had he found her out? Had he seen her in the forest? Had he recognized her from voice alone?

She discreetly shook out the white lotus tile from under her sleeve, second-guessing herself as she turned it over between her fingers. Would he even believe her if she gave it to him, or maybe he hadn't even seen the tile before and he hadn't joined the Order of the White Lotus yet, what was she going to do if-

"Haha, I had no reason!" Iroh laughed. Her tension eased. Azula visibly relaxed, though a surge of fond irritation still remained. She envied this man for being so goddamn ridiculous all the time, for it was uncomfortably endearing.

"Let's begin," she said, putting the tile back within her clothes and settling into a rigid stance. Uncle Iroh stood loosely, feigning a pacifist route, but she could see the lines of muscle waiting to tense underneath that easygoing facade. She knew from firsthand experience that Iroh was more than the laughing dunce she thought him to be.

Azula attacked first, viciously striking at his weaker joints and aiming with precision-aimed spears of flame. Iroh used a strange combination of water and earth movements, swaying back and striking harder than she was accustomed to. Azula fired a series of shots, all of them missing but one.

Iroh grunted as the fire connected, patted the flame out, and lunged in her direction. Azula backflipped out of the way before he could strike her and blew a ring of fire from her mouth, dropping so that her palms on the ground and she was on all fours. He dodged accordingly.

Even now, he was not moving in the way a Fire Nation soldier did, she thought, paying specific attention to how he balanced himself. Two feet on the ground at all times, his center of gravity showed that he was moving the way an earthbender did, but as he dodged her fire he changed his stance into the wavelike motions of a waterbender, moving around her flames as easily as liquid through a sieve.

She jumped in to land an uppercut, aiming fire through her fist, and he blocked her attack with his own, but a stray lick of blue flame caused his sleeve to catch fire. Instantly he yelped and stopped to set out the hazard, frantically waving his burning sleeve around like a flag.

"Uncle Iroh, please stop holding back," she called out, frustrated that he was not taking her seriously. Iroh managed to stop the fire from eating a huge chunk of his sleeve and sighed in relief. She readied her stance again, but Iroh held out a hand before she could continue.

"You're growing well, Azula," he praised. "It's a wondrous thing, your blue fire. Your father must be proud of you."  
"Thank you," she responded stiffly, bowing to him. "And thank you for the spar."

Uncle Iroh ruffled her hair. Disgruntled, Azula combed it back into a neater appearance, warily watching her uncle as he laughed loudly. "Your manners have improved much as well," he teased, and Azula scornfully crossed her arms and avoided eye contact.

"Uncle Iroh," she called sharply, and her change of tone gave him enough warning before she threw the lotus chip at him. It was now or never. "Do you recognize this?"

Something in his eyes changed as he caught it. She held her breath as he glanced at it, turned his head minutely around to check both directions. He chuckled loudly as he covered the lotus side of the chip. "Oh, you found my missing Pai Sho piece," he said, putting it up his sleeve. His head nodded toward the exit.

"What's Pai Sho?" She asked innocently. Iroh beckoned her over and began to walk, Azula following after.

"It's a strategy board game," he replied, face lighting up. Even as they were acting like the chip meant nothing, Azula could clearly see Iroh's love for this game. "This is the lotus chip, which takes part in one of the strategies in the game. You see..."

They reached Iroh's room, which was conveniently just near the garden. Iroh checked discreetly one last time to see if anyone was trailing them, then shut the door and set the white lotus chip down. "So," he said gravely. "Who told you about this tile?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle. That's the one thing I can't tell you." She ran a hand through her hair abruptly, stating what she had to tell him. "However, I know something that's going to happen in a couple of years that's going to end in Fire Lord Azulon's death. Ozai's going to take the throne. Mom will be banished from the kingdom to spare Zuko from being killed."  
Iroh's lips thinned. "He's really going to do it, isn't he," he murmured, tone wary. "Did Ozai entrust this information to you? No, it doesn't matter. Please tell me what you heard."  
Azula shook her head. "I can't say that either. I only caught the basic details."

Which wasn't a complete lie, either. Azula hadn't really seen when Ursa had fled, and she wasn't there to know how it had happened. She put a hand to her head, frustrated that she had yet to understand why. "Anyway, the plan will take place in four years, when Azulon will begin to think of the heir to the throne. Ozai plans to sway him in his favor by..." Her eyes widened. "By..."

Iroh blinked. "Yes?"

The Siege of Ba Sing Se would occur just as the throne will be taken, she thought in horror, her hand going to her face. Iroh's son would die on the front lines, and in his devastation he would give up the siege and lose the throne at the same time. For a brief moment, she thought about telling him never to try and attack the city, or at least not allow his son to follow him in battle. Then she looked up at him, truly looked at him.

He was much younger than when she'd last seen him. There were no hints of silver in his hair yet, not much, and even as he seemed every bit the uncle she remembered, there was some part of him that seemed unfamiliar to her as well. When Iroh had been banished, she recalled, he had traveled the world in the search for spiritual peace.

There was a melancholy when she saw the old Iroh, a sort of softer edge to her uncle that she had to admit affected her at times. This Iroh had not been banished yet. This Iroh was still focused on taking the throne and military success. He wasn't unrecognizable, but there was a part of him that was missing. She did not know this man as well as the older one.

It turns out she couldn't trust him after all. Not yet, at least. If she pretended that she had been mistaken, Iroh would be suspicious of her hiding an answer from him because she had taken too long to respond. Which meant that she would tell a half-truth. It was the one thing she could say that would both strengthen Iroh's bond with Zuko and protect the secret.

"Ozai plans to kill Zuko," she murmured just so that Iroh could hear. "He will pretend it was an accident, and then he will use me to show as the superior heir."

Iroh's eyes were wide. He put a hand to his head in shock, half turning so that she wouldn't see his expression. "Oh, dear," she could hear him say to himself. Azula panicked at the rage in his eyes, some emotion furious beyond relief. She had triggered something in him. He opened the door in the attempt to hurry out, but Azula pulled at his robes to stop him.  
"Uncle, the plan is in four years," she said hurriedly. "There is more at length here with my father's plan. My mother will flee after poisoning Fire Lord Azulon because Ozai forced her to in order to save Zuko. I also want to stop the coup d'etat before it happens, but please think carefully and don't make rash decisions."

"...Yes," he replied, placing his hand over hers. "Alright. Thank you, I'll be fine now." She released him and he picked up the white lotus chip, frowning a bit. "This group is a rather annoying bunch," he murmured, pocketing it. Azula's head whipped back toward him sharply.

"You're not part of the Order of the White Lotus?" He sighed, patting her head.  
"No, Azula. I'm not. They are a rather peaceful bunch, however, and I have managed to sit down to have tea sometimes." He seemed to remember something else, leaning down a bit to look more closely at her. "Where have you heard about the Order?"

"I bullied the servants," she automatically answered. He chuckled, clearly not believing her. Azula wondered if he had been this oblivious to her previous demeanor as her past self. She frowned but decided to set that issue aside for later.

"Anyway, that's all I needed to say," she concluded, folding her hands together. "If I find out anything else, I'll tell you immediately. Goodbye, Uncle."

Iroh stared after Azula as she left, wondering whether she had been this mature before. Her mischevious personality seemed to have mellowed out since the last time they'd met and her mind seemed sharper, less playful and more serious as she held her role to the utmost importance. He turned the lotus tile in his hand, lost in thought.

Perhaps he should visit the tea shop again.

Meanwhile, Azula walked back to her room quickly, cursing under her breath. She had forgotten that Iroh was not yet the man that he would become later on: this man was a war general, hidden underneath his kind behavior that she had nearly been fooled with. This man's values differed greatly from the Iroh she knew. Her anger manifested in a series of bursts as her hands blazed with light and torched the ground beneath her feet.

She became distracted for the rest of the day. She nearly bumped face first into a servant while muttering obscenities to herself. She threw an apology behind her and continued on, uncaring of the way the servant's eyes grew wide upon her unusually respectable gesture.

Realistically, she could not trust her friends nor her brother as they were much too young and easily targeted if any of them came under suspicion. Azula would guard her secret to the death, but she could not subject her friends to such torture. Zuko was a tattletale, and she definitely could not tell Ursa either: she couldn't trust her mother to be able to leave them both in the palace, she was much too caring as a parent to do so. Her uncle was not who he was before. She had very little options.

She grit her teeth and told herself that she could handle waiting four years. In the meantime, she would have to figure out what events she could afford to change without completely annihilating their positive effects.

She did not think Lu Ten's death could be avoided.

\- Sing Once More -

Azula retired early for the day, canceling whatever plans she had left. Ursa had been told that the girl felt ill.

She was worried. Azula had never been sick before, not even when the seasons changed. During the colder months, a firebender's body heat spiked to keep her warm. Whether this was because Azula did not wish to be seen as the weakling child or for another reason, she was rather alarmed by this news. Therefore, she came to visit, with Zuko in tow and a bowl of porridge carried in hand. Ozai had visited earlier, to her knowledge.

"Azula?" Ursa knocked a couple times on the door. A rustle, then the doorknob clicked. She opened the door hurriedly.

Azula's face was tired and forlorn, eyes slow to track them. Her clothes were askew and her movements were sluggish, as if she were moving through water. She seemed to have been crying, shown clearly by her red-streaked eyes and mussed hair. Ursa felt a surge of fury, believing Ozai had come to berate her, but then she noticed the scent of incense.

"What's wrong?" Ursa pulled Azula in, combing back a lock of hair as the girl trembled. Azula looked back to the stick, drawing forward the slow burning of smoke upon the ashtray. "Azula, please speak."

Azula glanced at her reluctantly, then back to the stick of incense. Zuko stood cautiously at the door, wondering at her weary air. She had never shown such tiredness before, and suddenly she seemed much more adultlike, decades older. Ursa prompted her again to say something.

"It's nothing," she said, shoulders shrugging. She wiped her face.

"Oh, poor dear," Ursa murmured, pulling her in for a hug. Both Zuko and Azula tensed, but eventually she relaxed in her hold.  
"It was going to happen anyway," Azula mumbled, feeling a strange sense of calm as Ursa pressed her gently to her chest. Zuko seemed lost now, holding the doorknob with a strange, betrayed look on his face. Azula pushed her way out of her mother's hold, sparing both him and herself. She coughed to clear her throat.

"I'm hungry," she complained, taking the bowl of porridge from the table that Ursa had placed it on. "Leave me be. I'm fine."  
Ursa seemed lenient this time and left accordingly, deciding to give Azula some time to herself. She ushered Zuko out the door as well, closing the door gently behind her. Azula set the porridge down and began to sift through a pile of papers, face dry and her mouth set in a hard line.

She had never met the boy in her previous life. He was probably more than a few years older than her at this time, but she had heard about how deeply Lu Ten's death had changed Iroh.

Ozai had called him a failure for letting his son's death get to him, which completely ended Iroh's career as general along with causing his failure to capture Ba Sing Se. Azula thought it to be necessary. But there was a part of her, just a sliver of her mind that thought it to be enviable. Iroh was influenced by his family, and he cared about his son far more than Ozai had ever cared for either her or Zuko. She envied that, the familial care that she had been so deprived of.

Could she save him? She halted, eyes darting from the desk to the wall. She could jeopardize the timeline in the process if she did, but then again, half of the things she was already planning to do would do so as well. She contemplated the pros and cons.

Iroh would be delighted at his son's survival. Iroh may not retire from being a general. He would most likely stay and fight in Ba Sing Se until he eventually conquered it entirely.

She grit her teeth. "Augh, screw it!" Azula walked over to her long line of shelves, and rolling up a sleeve, she pushed hard against the far shelf in her wall.

"I'm going out," she told no one, and quickly she turned the shelf back into place behind her before weaving down the long corridor. She still had time, and she needed to see this man's son for herself. She might as well have killed him herself by knowing it now, she thought, eyes already staring beyond the horizon. This was her first chance for her own redemption.

* * *

Oh wow it's been a year now hasn't it

The reviews have blown up while I was gone, and I'm glad that you've all been enjoying it! I'm not quite sure how many of you are still reading this, but I've been trying to write this chapter for a long while. This fic took less priority compared to my other, older stories, but that's definitely not the only reason or I wouldn't have taken this long. I'm attempting to figure out the plot as I go and it's been quite the struggle, and I'm so eager to just barrel on into writing the parts that I like instead of her growing period at home, but I need just a couple more chapters before I get there. Hopefully.

See you all in the next chapter!


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